The Last Hunt
by solotaire
Summary: AU preseries. Set after John and Sam's argument about college Sam goes on one last hunt to say goodbye to his supernatural life and to Dean but things go wrong when the two eldest Winchesters go after him.
1. Chapter 1

-1

Blue earth, Minnesota.

Pastor Jim sighed sadly as he gazed out of the kitchen window, his anxious gaze falling on his young guest. Sam Winchester was sprawled on the grass between the house and the small church, his soulful eyes wide as he gazed up at the overcast sky from behind the unruly bangs framing his face. For the first time in two days the calm mask that the boy had maintained since turning up on Jim's doorstep in the middle of the night had fallen, and all the kindly pastor could see was a young boy who desperately needed and wanted his family.

"Damn you John Winchester," he muttered as he turned away from the window, he'd only got the bare bones of what had transpired between father and son but he knew that Sam had taken whatever words his father had said in anger as gospel and was bent on a path of independence and destruction. He was still surprised that Dean hadn't chased after his younger sibling, or made any apparent attempts to find Sam but then again Dean was John's little soldier and if John said Sam was gone then Dean was likely to obey however, unhappy he was about it.

Sam smiled faintly as he felt the pastor move away from the kitchen window, he appreciated the older man's concern but he didn't like the thought that he was causing him any anxiety. Releasing a small huff he returned his attention to the ominous clouds that were moving slowly across the sky, however, his thoughts weren't on what his saying...instead they were latched onto the echoing remnants of the argument that had forced him to flee from his father's oppression at the cost of leaving behind the only thing he cared about in this world- Dean. His brother's name was an open wound, he knew that his brother had been hurt by the words spoken that night but he hadn't tried to stop his father from delivering the ultimation that had shattered their fragile family...he hadn't even protested as John Winchester's enraged voice had boomed through the motel room.

**You want to go, then go but don't think about coming back.**

Those words had contained so much anger, pain and disappointment and Sam had realised that there really wasn't any other choice but to leave for good. He'd grabbed his duffel bag and looked at his big brother, feeling fresh wounds open in his heart as Dean stared at him blankly his normally expressive hazel eyes cold and distant. All hope had fled the youngest Winchester at that point and he'd fled with a choked goodbye that had died in the night, as he fled from his family and the supernatural world they inhabited.

"Damn it," he growled under his breath as his hands fisted around the grass beneath him, he could feel tears welling and he didn't have the strength to will them away. He needed and wanted to see his brother, to try and fix the chasm that had opened up between them but he knew that he couldn't. Dean had always been the good soldier, and he knew that Dean like himself would've taken their father's words for gospel. Sam couldn't go back, not now and not ever.

As the first few tears escaped down his cheeks the sky above him opened up, sheets of chilly fall rain fell on him but he didn't move even though shivers quickly began to work their way through his prone body. It was fitting he thought distantly as his tears continued to escape, that the heavens were mourning with him, because he truly felt as though someone had torn off a chunk of his soul and left a bleeding hole in its place.

"SAM!" Pastor Jim's worried bellow broke through his depressed thoughts and he tilted his head slightly to see the pastor stood in the door way beckoning for him to come inside out of the wet. For a brief second he considered ignoring the pastor but he quickly dismissed the idea, the pastor wouldn't hesitate to come out and drag his behind inside and he wasn't likely to be gentle if he was made to come out in the rain. Slowly he clambered to his feet, and reluctantly headed for the house. "What on earth were you thinking Sam?" The pastor demanded as the bedraggled boy reached him and Sam smiled shyly as he brushed his soggy bangs out of his face.

"Sorry Pastor Jim," he mumbled looking swiftly at the ground as he entered the house and he practically ran upstairs, leaving the concerned pastor to stare after him with a frown marring his brow. He hadn't missed the redness around the boy's eyes, or the chilling loneliness in the depths of the expressive brown eyes that had tried to look everywhere but the pastor.

With an irritated sigh the pastor moved to put the kettle on, Sam needed to be warmed up and then the pastor would have to try and do some damage control, before the Winchester stubbornness drove the youngest into a premature grave. An event that was increasingly becoming a possibility as Sam seemed to be drifting further and further away without the presence of his beloved older brother to anchor him. The Pastor harboured no illusions about which member of his family that Sam was missing badly enough to have his soul so shattered; relationships between the youngest and eldest members of the Winchester clan had broken down ages ago when Sam had reached the age where he knew his own mind.

After changing into some dry clothes and rubbing a towel roughly over his unruly mop Sam collapsed on the bed in the guest room and dragged a pile of papers across on to his lap. His calm mask slid back into place as he skim read the newspaper clippings and notes he'd made over the last couple of days, his heart lightening a bit as he planned his hunt. One last hunt he thought silently, a way to prove to himself that he wasn't the failure that his dad always implied he was and a way to say goodbye to the brother that he'd lost to the world of hunting. One last venture into the world of the supernatural before he headed off for the 'normal' life at Stanford, the 'normal' life that had cost him everything. He smirked at the thought, the universe truly loved irony- he'd wanted to get away from the hunting life and have 'normal' and here he was trying to get into the hunting world so that he could have 'normal'.

The only problem he thought grimly was that he'd have to get around Pastor Jim, who clearly wasn't going to let him wander off without a fight; especially as the priest seemed to have taken Sam under his wing. At that moment the shrill ring of the telephone broke through his thoughts and he hesitated, cocking his head to hear if the pastor would answer. Sure enough the pastor's low voice drifted up to him as the ringing ceased abruptly and he relaxed back onto the bed. However, seconds later the pastor's normally soft voice rose and his curiosity piqued he stealthily moved to the door and listened with growing dread to the increasingly heated conversation.

**"God Dammit John, that boy of yours is falling apart."**

Sam was shocked, the pastor rarely cussed because it took an awful lot to rile the gentle man.

**"And Dean?"**

Sam's gut clenched as a wave of longing swept over him once more.

**"Can't you see what this is doing to your boys? To the family that you've always claimed was the most important thing in the world?"**

Sam whistled slightly, Jim really was tearing his father a new one.

**"This isn't about that at all John; this is about you being afraid and too stubborn to admit it."**

Sam shook his head sadly. This wasn't about fear or stubbornness it was about control.

**"If you don't sort this out you're going to loose that child, and I don't just mean to college. He's loosing all care in the world around him, and you know that kind of attitude will get him killed."**

Perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing Sam thought even though he was shocked that the Pastor would think such a thing.

**"Good, I'll see you both tomorrow."**

Sam retreated as he heard the phone being replaced, his heart pounding as the Pastor's angry words echoed in his mind; his mind echoing with the angry statements. But his most pressing concern was that his dad was coming here...tomorrow... Trembling slightly he turned to gaze at the notes he'd scattered across the bed and he hastily reached a decision, he'd go now, before the Pastor or his father could stop him. Quietly he moved around the room retrieving his meagre belongings and stuffing them back into his duffel along with his bundle of notes. After a moment of hesitation he grabbed a clean sheet of paper and scrawled a hasty note to the Pastor, hoping that the man could forgive him for disappearing. Leaving the note on the pillow he slung his bag over his shoulder and crept out of the room, carefully avoiding the floorboards that creaked. As he slipped down the stairs he could hear his host bustling around in the kitchen, and he felt a wave of guilt for leaving the man to face his father's ire alone.

After a brief hesitation he moved again, flitting quickly past the kitchen doorway as the Pastor had his back turn and almost silently out of the front door. Once outside he paused once more, gazing longingly at the small church that had been his retreat when he was a child seeking to hide from his father's anger and disappointment. Now, his thoughts drifted back to Pastor Jim's belief that he was heading towards an early death and suddenly his childhood retreat didn't seem as safe as it once had.

Shaking himself he set off briskly for the town to see if he could catch a bus to his destination, he was a little bit reluctant to follow the usual Winchester tradition of hot wiring a ride out of town. For one thing it would remind him painfully of Dean who'd taught him that particular skill, and secondly Stanford wouldn't be happy with him if he was caught.

Dean shifted anxiously as his father glared at the cell phone clutched in his hand, he'd come in part way through the shouting match and from what he'd been able to gather it was about his missing brother. Part of him wanted to force his dad to talk, to tell him that Sammy was alright that their family was going to be okay; but another part of him was cold with dread…what if something had happened to his little brother? What if the one time Sam was outside of his big brother radar the supernatural got lucky? What if…?

"Dad?" Dean burst out suddenly, the what if's whirling around his frantic mind driving him crazy with fear and doubt and a need to be reassured.

John started and raised his eyes to look at his son and he felt his shaky composure wobble as he saw the silent fear and the unspoken loneliness in his son's eyes. He could almost see the gap between them, the hole that had been his youngest son- the light that had held the family together. And suddenly he realised that Jim had been right, this had been about his fear and stubbornness and now his children were paying the price.

"Pack up Dean," he said as he clambered to his feet.

"A job?" Dean failed to keep the disappointment and slight bitterness out of his voice.

"Of sorts," John hedged before sighing. " We're going to Jim's to see Sammy." _To make amends_ he added silently as he watched a hopeful and delighted smile flash across Dean's face before his son literally bounded off to pack.

Within the hour the two eldest Winchester's were in the Impala tearing down the highway towards their missing family member, unaware that Sam was running as fast as he could away from them.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the kind reviews. Here is the next installment.

Hamlet, Wisconsin

Sam yawned widely as he eased his vehicle into the parking lot of a run-down motel; his hopes of avoiding Winchester tradition had been foiled by the lack of buses in Blue earth and he'd had to resort to hotwiring a ride- mindful that he had to leave quickly before the older Winchesters caught up with him. Wearily he slid his lanky frame out of the car and stretched his cramped limbs, wishing as always that they made cars for people with long legs. Grabbing his duffel out of the boot he shut the car and glancing around warily he bolted for the motel reception, hoping that no one would associate him with the now-abandoned vehicle.

Tradition nearly made him ask for a double room, and he had to quickly alter his words as he realised that he really was on his own. That there was no protective big brother to claim the second bed closest to door, no big brother to return the pretty receptionist's inviting smile. Taking the key that flirty receptionist gave him he beat a swift retreat, he was tired and the ache in his chest was growing worse as his thought kept drifting back to Dean. He wondered if they'd arrived at Pastor Jim's yet and he hoped that they didn't tear Jim a new one, it wasn't the pastor's fault.

The room was just like every other motel room that he'd ever stayed in, the walls were painted in what he guessed had previously been cream but were now discoloured with age and smoke. The carpet looked as though someone had raided the nearest food store and smeared everything possible on it. But it was cheap and out of the way, and it had a bed. Yawning again he dumped his stuff on the table and went to the bed, without bothering to remove anything he sprawled across the bed trying to ignore the abscence of a second bed. Slowly his eyes dropped lower and his breathing evened out as he fell into a light sleep full of dreams and memories.

Blue Earth, Minnesota

Pastor Jim started as he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling into his drive, rubbing a hand over his eyes he got to his feet. He hadn't slept the previous night because of his worry over his young guest, and he wasn't looking forward to the erruption that was sure to happen when Dean and John found that their youngest family member had slipped away into the night. Steeling himself for the fireworks he opened the door, startling Dean who'd just raised his fist to knock.

"Hey Jim," Dean grinned and the Pastor felt an almost physical pain as he realised just how much Dean had been missing his younger sibling and how hurt he was going to be that Sam was gone.

"Hello Dean, John," Jim said as he looked up at John, noticing the anxiety and nervousness in his friend's dark eyes. "Come on in," he beckoned them inside.

Dean looked around hopefully as he stepped into the Pastor's house but there was no sign of his sasquatch-sized brother, frowning suddenly as he noticed the silence that filled the house he turned back to their host.

"Where's Sammy?"

"Gone," Jim whispered softly and Dean froze as the world dropped away from him. _No, no, no, no_ his mind screamed, Sammy had to be here where it was safe, where they could make amends. _Gone?_

"What do you mean gone?" John growled as he saw Dean go pale and sudden fear darkened his son's eyes as he stared blankly at the two older men.

"I mean he's gone, taken off," Jim sighed. "He heard us on the phone; here, he left a note." He held out the sheet of paper he'd found after he'd discovered Sam was missing and Dean stirred enough to snatch it away from his father's reaching hand.

_Pastor Jim,_

_I'm sorry to run out on you but I can't stay here. I heard you tearing my dad a new one on the phone,_

_but I don't think things are going to be that easy to mend. He told me to stay gone and thats what I'm doing. _

_He has Dean with him, so he doesn't need his screw-up son around anymore._

_There's a hunt over in Hamlet Wiconsin that I'm going to take care of and then I'm going to head to Stanford_

_to see if I start slightly earlier. I hope my dad doesn't tear you a new one; please don't tell him where I am or_

_what I'm doing. I just want a chance to prove that I can hunt. Tell Dean that I'm sorry._

_Thanks for everything_

_yours Sam_

Dean crumpled the note in his hand as he tried to get his raging emotions back in check, all he knew in that instance was that he had to find his little brother before he got hurt. He knew that Sam was a talented hunter, but his brother was clearly not alright at the moment and if he wasn't a hundred percent focued then anything could happen to him._Oh Sammy, why did you have to pick now of all times to obey Dad's orders? _He thought desperately, but he knew that their father's words had wounded Sam and that his little brother was hell bent on escaping them.

"This is your fault," he growled suddenly as he rounded on his startled father, his eyes blazing with anger and concern for Sam.

" What possessed you to tell Sam that he had to stay gone? To tell him that he was a failure?"

"Dean..." John started but Dean held up a hand to stop him.

"No dad," he said bitterly. "You can't make this better with words. I'm going after Sammy before he gets himself killed trying to prove to you that he is a good hunter, when you already know that you're just not able to admit it. You wanted to keep him close, hell so did I, but you took it to far and now he's running as fast as he can away from you."

With that he pressed the crumpled note into his father's hand and shot out the door. Dazed, John could only stand frozen as the Impala roared to life once more and tore out of the drive with a squeal of tires. Slowly John smoothed out the crumpled note, his eyes darkening as he read the words that his youngest has written, finally realising how badly he had wounded his son with his harsh words.

"What have I done?" He whispered hoarsely as he turned to look at Jim, the Pastor's face was a mask of concern and muted anger but his eyes were compassionate as he stared at his shaken friend.

"You know what you've done John, now you need to decide how you're going to fix it," the Pastor's voice was stern- there was no way he was going to let the other man drown himself in self pity or a bottle of Jack Daniels.

" I've got to find Sammy, " John mumbled and then froze, Dean had taken the Impala- Dean had left him to find his little brother to do what John should be doing.

"Take my truck," Jim said as he dug the keys out of his pocket and handed them to his friend.

"What do I say to him?" John asked softly.

"What you haven't said to him in a very long time. It's time you acknowledged the man your son is becoming, rather than expecting him to become Dean. Tell him that you're proud of him, that he is a good hunter and most importantly let him know that you do care for him," the softness had gone out of Jim's voice, he needed his words to make an impact otherwise John's stubborness and inability to connect to his youngest would push Sam over the precipice he was clinging to.

"He knows I care," John retorted, stung by the sharpness of his friends words.

"Does he?"

John's mind reeled, was it possible that Sam thought that he didn't care? Yes, they had argued and fought almost constantly for the past couple of years but that was just Winchester stubborness and teenage attitude. Wasn't it? Desperately he tried to recall the last time he'd shown his youngest any affection or even approval, but all he could remember was constant jibes and disappointed remarks. Dean had never been so difficult, he was a born hunter and he had grown up the day his mother was murdered...but Sammy...Sammy had always been the light that had stopped John falling into despair...his innocence and ability to soak up knowledge had always made him different...but John had never acknowledged those differences as talent, instead he'd sought to iron them out of his son- to make him into a hardened hunter like his brother.

"Go after him John before you lose that boy forever," Jim said as he saw the devastated look in the other man's eyes. With a brief nod of gratitude John turned and hurried from the house, still trembling from the realisation that his son might think that he didn't care for him.

" Mary I'm so sorry, what have I done to our baby?" He asked as he climbed heavily into Jim's truck, wondering what he could do to truly fix the gulf between himself and Sam...or if it was even possible. Silent tears leaked down his weathered face as he pulled out of the driveway and set out after his sons...this time he wasn't the hunter, or the widower bent on revenge...he was a father.

random name for the town


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the long time with no updates- but between college and my plot bunny that led to the 'Boy Hunter' I've been busy

Sorry for the long time with no updates- but between college and my plot bunny that led to the 'Boy Hunter' I've been busy. Anywho, here's the next chapter and the next update will be Tuesday.

SNSN

Dean shifted in his seat as the Impala roared past the sign for Hamlet, grimacing as his stiff muscles protested after being stuck in the same position for too long. He'd broken more than a few laws to get here so fast, but he was driven by some nameless sense that his brother…his stubborn, geeky, argumentative brother was plunging into something more than he could handle in his current state of mind. Even as his mind raced over unnamed concerns about his brother, he also cursed his father's temper and unthinking tongue- wondering when the man he had so blindly worshipped until a couple of days ago had become so isolated from his youngest that he hadn't realised the impact his words would have on Sammy.

Just as the first house came into sight his cellphone began to ring, the straits of Smoke on the Water filling the car. With a scowl he glanced at the caller id and was unsurprised to see Dad flashing up on the screen, the man had called him about a hundred times since he'd left Blue Earth- he allowed himself a small smirk as he imagined the surprise the man must have felt when Dean had driven off in the car leaving him stranded at Jim's. Ignoring his phone he pulled his car into the car park of a typical, dingy small-town diner, feeling his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

As he strode into the diner he glanced around at the other customers, but there was no sign of his shaggy-haired sasquatch and he sighed although he hadn't expected things to be that easy. Feeling slightly deflated he headed for the counter.

"Hey there honey, what can I get you?" The curvy, waitress asked as she eyed him up appreciatively.

"A coffee and cheeseburger," he replied, paying no attention to her keen look. "And could you tell me where the nearest motel is?"

"Sure sugar, there's only two around here- Eight ball just up the road from here, and Frankie-Joe's on the other side of town but you want the eight ball cos the other place is a real dive," the waitress replied and Dean nodded and flashed her a brief smile as he handed across the money for the food. He was grateful that there were only two motels because it would make it easier to track down his little brother. Taking his food, he muttered a brief farewell before heading out the door- he'd try the motel on the other side of town first because he figured that as much as his brother hated run-down motels it was probably all he'd be able to afford.

SN

Sam started awake with his brother's name on his lips, and he was hit by a wave of loneliness as he remembered that he was alone. Breathing heavily as the remnants of his nightmare drifted away he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes to clear the sleep. A quick glance at his watch showed that it was nearly noon, and his stomach rumbled a second later telling him that it was time to eat. He wondered briefly whether his family had caught up with Jim, and a sudden wave of guilt had him reaching for his cellphone and nervously punching in the pastor's number.

"**Hello?"**

"Hey Jim, its Sam," Sam said breathlessly, already regretting ringing the man and worried that his father would suddenly come on the line.

"**Sam are you alright lad? What were you thinking taking off like that?"**

"I'm fine, I'm really sorry about taking off but I couldn't see him," Sam couldn't bring himself to say Dad, after all John Winchester hadn't exactly lived up to the name recently.

"**I understand Sam, but I'm sorry son…they read the note and they're on their way to Hamlet."**

Sam hung up as Jim's words reached him and he hastily switched his cell phone off with trembling fingers, he wasn't mad at the man- somewhere in his mind he'd realised that they would see the note but he'd hoped the priest would hold out a little longer- mind you he couldn't blame the man, his father was like a bulldozer and if you didn't fall in with what he wanted then you were really screwed.

"Dammit," he growled, he needed to get the last of his research and the hunt done tonight if possible if he was going to avoid his family. Cursing he clambered off the bed and grabbed his duffel, burying his phone in amongst his clothes- he wouldn't be coming back to this room after all. Shoving aside his longing to hang around just to catch a glimpse of Dean, and his vague nervousness about taking a solo hunt he headed out of the door.

SN

Dean wrinkled his nose as he pulled into the motel's car park- the place really was a dive. As he stepped out of the car he spotted the single vehicle parked in the car-park, sitting there with an air of abandonment and he knew instinctively that he had found how his brother had managed to get here- which meant that Sam had to still be around here somewhere. With a fresh spring in his step he headed for the office, failing to notice that as he stepped into the office his brother appeared at the door to his room.

Sam had been about to leave the room when he'd heard the all too familiar roar of the impala and he'd dashed to the window and watched with a thrill of fear and longing as Dean had climbed out and glanced at the abandoned vehicle with a knowing look. The teenager had waited until his brother had entered the office before dashing out of the door, and making a beeline away from the motel- he didn't know why his brother had been alone but he wasn't going to risk anyone stopping him now.

SN

Dean mustered the most charming smile in his repertoire as he approached the fifty-something motel clerk.

"Excuse me ma'am," he said politely. "I was wondering if you could help me, I'm looking for my kid brother- he's about six foot one, shaggy-haired and has green eyes."

"Oh that sweet boy that checked in earlier, bless him he didn't know what to do when my niece started flirting with him," the woman gushed with a wide smile and Dean was hard pressed not to smirk at hearing about his brother's embarrassment. "He's over in room twelve."

"Thank you ma'am, " he responded and she beamed at him- clearly unused to being addressed politely and with a smile he quickly withdrew; he knew from experience that such women would quite happily chatter on all day long with a polite stranger and he was desperate to get his brother kick some sense into him and then tease him for the next few weeks about his inability to cope with flirting. Silently rehearsing what he was going to say to his brother he hurried across to room twelve, but as he drew near he saw that the door was hanging open and a new wave of fear caused him to run forward.

"Sammy," he called as he burst into the room, fearful of what he might find. However, all found was an empty room devoid of any sign of his brother or his belongings. He checked the bathroom but was unsurprised to find it empty…and a string of curses erupted from him as he realised that his brother had taken off again. It was time to change tactics he realised as he stalked out of the room and headed back to his car…tracking his brother was getting him no where because the kid was desperate to follow out their father's orders to stay gone. No, he had to think like a hunter and that meant finding out what the hunt that had brought his brother here was…and try to get there before Sam could get himself injured or killed.

SNSNSN

Next Chapter- Papa Winchester arrives and the hunt begins


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the long time with no updates- but between college and my plot bunny that led to the 'Boy Hunter' I've been busy

SNSNSN

Sam could not believe his luck…he had hoped to at least have a little bit of time before his family tracked him down but now he had to get his hunt done and move on as soon as possible, because Dean wasn't going to rest…oh God Dean! He paused for a second as he turned to gaze back in the direction of the motel, he could feel spikes of the loneliness and sadness that had gripped him at Jim's worming their way back into his battered heart and he had to hastily blink away tears. Suck it up Winchester! He told himself silently, trying not to remember how many times his father had said those very words to him over the last few years- thoughts of his father led to thoughts of that night and he couldn't let himself be distracted. Shaking his head and rubbing a hand roughly over his eyes he set off again.

SN

John sighed with relief as he drove into Hamlet, the entire drive from Blue Earth had been torture as his concern for his boys and Jim's harsh but true words had torn at him, showing him how badly he had screwed up this time. To make things worse Dean had ignored every call he'd made…and John's paranoia had immediately conjured up every worse case scenario that his imagination could dream of. Crushing his fears he reached for his cell phone and automatically dialled Dean's number, praying that his eldest would answer…that he was with Sammy.

"**What**?" He nearly dropped the phone when Dean's irritated voice burst out in his ear, for a brief second he nearly tore his son a new one for his attitude but then he realised that it was less than he deserved.

"I've just arrived, where are you? Have you found Sammy?" John's shoulders slumped as he heard his son's negative answer. "I'll be there in a couple of minutes. Bye." He hung up abruptly, silently cursing his youngest's stubborn streak which was clearly raising its ugly head at the moment. Tossing his cell phone into the passenger seat he pulled the truck onto the side of the road, glancing around as though hoping Sam would suddenly appear he climbed out and set off to meet Dean.

SN

Dean scowled at his father as the man hurried up to him- to be honest he had been surprised to hear that the man had actually come looking for Sam but at this stage Dean was willing to accept his help, he just wanted to find his little brother before he came to any harm.

"I'm sorry Dean," John said as he saw the scowl, and Dean sighed as he heard the sincerity in his father's deep voice.

"It's not me that needs to here it," he said without any heat and John nodded.

"I think I've found out what Sammy's hunting, but we need to do some more research," Dean said tilting his head at the library.

"I'll follow your lead," John replied, this was his son's hunt not his and he knew it and he knew that when it came to Sammy it was Dean that was the most prepared. Hell it had always been Dean since the night Mary was taken from them, and for that John knew he was to blame; it was he who had placed Sam in Dean's arms and ordered the four year old to take his brother outside. Unwittingly he had placed Sam in Dean's care, and that was a state of affairs that had become a permanent feature since that moment- and John had done nothing to curtail it for it left him free to hunt. But now in the light of recent events and with Jim's words still fresh in his mind, he couldn't help but wonder whether he had done both boys a great wrong by doing so- Dean had never had a life outside of his brother and Sammy had grown up without a father figure because John had never been there.

"We'll find him Dad," Dean said confidently, giving his father a peculiar look- wondering what on earth was going on with the man. However, now was not the time for touchy-feely stuff and so without another word he turned and headed into the library, the heavy tread of his father informing that the man was following.

SN

Sam was nervous. He had never been on a solo hunt before, and he suddenly found himself assailed with doubts…every harsh word or degrading comment that his father had ever made about his hunting echoed in his mind as he sat in the park flicking through his research. As he gazed blankly at the papers his mind drifted back to the hunt six months ago when he had truly realised that he was never going to be the hunter or son that his father wanted.

They had been hunting a Wendigo in Colorado, which had resulted in a four day trek in the forests around black water ridge. On the third night on the ridge, Sam had dozed off when he was on guard duty and had ended up sleep walking…a habit that he thought he'd grown out of. He'd wandered off into the forest and naturally the wendigo had found him; he'd woken up when the thing leapt on him, slicing his chest open…half-asleep he'd panicked and screamed for his dad whilst struggling to free himself from the creature. A few moments later his father and brother had come crashing through the woods, their faces full of concern and all guns blazing. He'd been tossed aside like a sack of potatoes as the wendigo went for his family, but his father had quickly killed the creature whilst Dean had rushed to check his injuries. "Damn it Sam, I told you to stay near the camp!" John had erupted as he came over to where Dean was hastily trying to patch up Sam's bleeding chest. "I didn't mean to, I think I was sleepwalking," Sam had protested feeling slightly woozy, and not really understanding how he could be blamed for this. "You should never have fallen asleep, it was your turn on guard. You could have got your brother killed, didn't you think about that?" "I.." "No Sam, you wanted to come on this trip and you have to pull your weight. I don't want you on any more hunts until I know you're not going to be a liability anymore," John had said harshly, and Sam had gazed up at him feeling his heart breaking in his chest as he saw the sheer disappointment in his father's dark gaze. "Yes sir, sorry sir," he had whispered, knowing that there was nothing that he could say that would make the man view him in a better light… Sam growled as he pushed away the memory- his father had been true to his word and he hadn't been on a single hunt since then, instead every spare moment had been channelled into training and not once had his father shown a single ounce of approval. "I'll show you," he muttered as he turned resolutely back to his research. SN Dean felt his worry for Sam increase as he flicked his eyes over the articles he had found, he couldn't help but feel ironic pride in the fact that Sam had chosen such a difficult hunt for his first solo- the kid never did do things half way. "I've found it," he said aloud as he glanced up from his paper, at once John's gaze shot to him. "There's been a string of apparent suicides, six people have died in the last five months up at an old house near the river apparently from self-inflicted wounds but the police seem to think they're murders." "You sure that's a hunt?" John asked sceptically. "I think so, listen to this. "Locals are worried that there is a copy cat killer on the lose, apparently this a repeat of what happened here about seventy years ago when the owner of that house a 'Mr. Anderson', drove his victims to commit suicide through physical and psychological torture. Once he was discovered he was murdered by an angry mob," Dean said grimly. "A malevolent spirit?" "Looks like it, and it look as though he's continuing the work he started when he was alive." "Does it say where he's buried?" John demanded, trying to panic as he thought about his youngest going up against such a spirit. "Um, all it says that the man was denied a Christian burial and a vague reference to his land," Dean said quickly scanning the article. "We'll have to hope he's buried near the house then," John said as he got to his feet. "You want to risk taking care of it during the day?" Dean asked in surprise although he also rose. "We can't risk Sammy going up against him, " John said and Dean nodded, the thought of the spirit getting his hand on Sammy made his skin crawl and he had to hide the shudder that ran though him at the thought. SN Sam took a deep breath as he stared up at the house, even its front looked evil- its windows were boarded up and decorated with graffiti, and vibrant red ivy and crawled across the bricks making the building look as though it was covered in blood. Gathering his nerves he dumped his duffel on the ground and quickly retrieved the lighter fluid, matches and shotgun and rock salt cartridges, which he stuffed into his coat pocket. Briefly he glanced at the river running beside the house, noting absently that it seemed unusually high for this time of the year. "Here goes," he muttered to himself as he headed up the front stairs, he hesitated briefly as he picked the lock but then with a final glance at the river he disappeared into the house; unaware of the eager eyes that watched him as he moved further inside…. SNSNSN Thanks for the reviews. Next Chapter: Limp Sam! And things start to go to hell 


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for all the reviews, and I apologize for the late update

Thanks for all the reviews, and I apologize for the late update

SNSNSN

Dean shuddered as he followed his father towards the house, the entire place had a bad vibe coming off it in waves and he didn't like it.

"Sam's already here," John's anxious voice broke into his thoughts, and Dean groaned as he saw his brother's duffel lying discarded on the ground- he'd hoped that they'd beaten Sam to the place but it seemed as though it was the other way round.

"Come on," he said, desperate to find his brother before Sam got himself hurt or worse- his gaze flicking briefly to the river before going to the door which was swaying softly in the wind.

"Carefully Son, we don't want to give the spirit the chance to get the drop on us," John cautioned as they moved forwards, however, his eyes were dark with anxiety- he too wanted to find the youngest member of their family and make sure he was safe.

Together they stealthily entered the house, forcing themselves not to wretch as they were assaulted with the smell of decay and death.

"That's just gross," Dean muttered in disgust and John had to bite back a small smile- settling instead for a raised eyebrow as he indicated for them to continue moving. They moved into what must've been the living room/hall way, and John began to head for the stairs in the corner- worried by the silence in the house; however, he stopped moving as he spotted a suspicious mark on the corner of an old cabinet. His expression darkening he reached out and touched it with a finger, pulling back he saw his skin was stained with something moist and red.

"Blood," Dean breathed as he peered at what his father was doing. "That means Sam's hu…" Dean was cut off as he suddenly found himself airborne, a cry forcing itself from his lips as he collided with the far wall- before collapsing to the ground in a heap. John whirled with the shotgun ready, but as he moved the weapon was torn from his grasp and flung out of the window, which shattered, on impact. He barely had time to mutter a curse before he was flung backwards, grunting as he landed on the bottom step and feeling at least one rib crack.

"Son of a bitch," he snarled gripping his side in pain, as the spirit appeared above him, a youngish, brown-haired man that was regarding him with fascination.

"So much guilt." The spirit whispered as it began to move closer to John, its hands starting to pulse with blue light, and John realised with a thrill of horror that, that was how the spirit got to its victims- and that he was lined up to be the next one.

He froze- hating his helplessness as the spirit reached out for him and bracing himself for whatever was going to happen to him.

"No dad!" A terrified shout broke through the silence, and just as the spirit was about to grab him a shape leapt between them- followed by an agonised scream as the spirit grabbed the shape. John blinked in shock and horror as the spirit lifted his youngest into the air, its hands wrapped tightly around Sam's wrists as blue light pulsed between them as Sam writhed in pain.

"The body," Sam gasped out. "It's in…the basement," he cried out as the light grew in intensity, and John suddenly sprang into action.

"Dean help your brother," he bellowed as his oldest began to stir, and then he was gone- knowing that he had to get rid of the spirit before it killed his baby.

SNSNSN

Sam hated the house with a passion- particularly the stench- but he had a job to do and he intended to do it. Gritting his teeth he began to search the downstairs of the building- he hit the jackpot surprisingly quickly, when he found the open door to the cellar. Suspiciously he'd sneaked down the stairs, sweaty hands grasping his shotgun in readiness for an attack- however, he'd gotten into the cellar without incidence and found the skeleton stretched out on a rotten piece of cloth.

"What the hell?" He muttered, there were definitely something wrong- hunts were never this easy, especially for a Winchester. However, he had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and had quickly sprayed the bones with a liberal amount of rock salt and lighter oil. However, just as he prepared to drop a match onto the body he was flung backwards towards the cellar steps- crying out as he landed hard and stifling a curse as he realised the hunt was about to become problematic.

The spirit materialised above and a shook a reproving finger at him, its expression mild as it gazed down at the winded youth.

"Children shouldn't play with fire, particularly one's as guilty as you," the spirit admonished and Sam frowned in confusion, however, his confusion was replaced with pain as he was flung up the stairs and out into the kitchen- cracking his head against the cupboards as he crashed to a halt. Dazed he staggered to his feet- spitting out blood from where he'd bitten his lip as he backed away from the approaching ghost, stumbling dizzily and cursing as he realised his gun was still in the cellar. He couldn't help but wish that Dean was here to help as he was flung across the living room and into an old cabinet near the stairs. This time the blow was too much and he spiralled into darkness- impervious to the spirit as it moved his motionless body up to one of the old bedrooms as it sensed the arrival of other people.

SN

Sam groaned as he came to- feeling nauseous as he shifted his aching head. Despite the pain he sat up quickly as he remembered where he was and what had happened. He scowled as he realised he was on a bed and that he had no recollection of getting there- just then he heard low voices coming from downstairs and his heart clenched as he heard an all too familiar cry of pain.

"Dean," he whispered as he forced himself to his feet- fortunately the door was unlocked and he made his way stealthily across the landing to the stairs and peered down. He could see Dean laying at the far end of the room and could tell his brother was beginning to stir- but what captivated his attention was the spirit that was rapidly closing in on his father who seemed to be frozen in place.

"No Dad!" He cried out in terror as he instinctively moved- despite the pain in his head he shot the stairs and threw himself between the spirit and his Dad. A cry of agony forced its way past his lips as the spirit grasped his wrists- the blue light surrounding its hands scorching his flesh as he was hauled into the air.

"The body," he managed to gasp out. "It's in…the basement," he cried out as the light grew in intensity, and his Dad suddenly sprang into action.

"Dean help your brother," His Dad yelled as he vanished from the room and Sam was left alone in his agony..

SNSNSN

Dean felt like he'd been run over by a steamroller- but at his Dad's bellow he shot to his feet his eyes darkening as he heard Sam's agonized whimpers and saw his little brother writhing in the spirit's grasp.

"Sammy," he cried as he scooped up his gun and moved towards Sam, however, the spirit repositioned itself so that Sam's body was shielding it from Dean's intended attack it's eyes glittering maliciously. "Let him go you son of a bitch," Dean snarled as he realised his attack had been thwarted.

"But he make's such a nice toy," the spirit taunted and Dean growled- watching helplessly as Sam's struggles weakened and noticing for the first time the blood matting his brother's hair in several places and a large cut on his pale forehead.

SN

John had wanted to hurl when he'd seen his baby's blood spread around the kitchen and down the cellar stairs, but with great difficulty he'd forced himself to focus on the body in the corner. He felt a modicum of pride when he saw that the body had been prepared for being burnt- fumbling he quickly dug out his lighter and flipped it open.

"This is for Sammy," he muttered as he threw it onto the corpse- waiting only until he was sure that it had spread along the entire body before bolting back up the stairs towards his boys.

SNSNSN

Dean sprang forwards as the spirit suddenly released his brother as its body erupted in flames- realising his father had managed to torch the body. He cushioned Sam's fall and pulled his sibling away from the ghost as it vanished in a shower of sparks.

"Sammy?" He asked frantically as he held his brother against his chest, his eyes darting from the various cuts and bumps covering his brother's head, face and arms down to the nasty burns marring his wrists.

"D…ean 'urts," Sam murmured weakly, his eyes flickering open to half mast as he gazed up at his big brother.

"It's okay, your okay," Dean murmured feeling a moment's relief that Sam had replied, which turned to concern as Sam's eyes flickered shut and he went limp in his arms. "Sammy," he called softly shaking the teenager but there was no response, and he looked up as his Dad came hurtling into the room.

"Dean, is he okay?" John demanded anxiously, his heart clenching as he saw how still his baby was.

"He's hurt bad," Dean replied.

"Let's get him out of here and back to the motel so we can patch him up," John said and Dean nodded preparing to rise and scoop up Sam, but John stepped forward and carefully took the injured teenager into his arms marvelling at his lightness. "I've got him," he said and Dean nodded reluctantly before following his family out of the room- thankful that they were together again but not realising what the next few days would bring.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the reviews folks

Thanks for the reviews folks. Enjoy the next chapter.

SNSNSN

One day later

Dean didn't even pretend to hide his concern as he sat beside his unconscious sibling, gently cleaning the burns on Sam's wrists yet again- trying to drive away the infection that was already starting to seep into them. His brother hadn't stirred since their brief reunion the night before, and that worried and disturbed him- the head wounds hadn't been that serious but they had no idea what the spirit had done to Sammy and Dean hated not knowing.

"C'mon kiddo let me see those eyes of yours," he murmured softly as he began to slowly wrap the gauze around the burns once more.

"Any change?" He started as John walked into the room.

"Nothing, maybe we should take him to the hospital Dad," Dean said, as he ran a hand gently through Sam's unruly hair.

"We can't risk it, not with the police swarming over the house and we don't know whether the spirit did anything to him or not yet," John said and Dean sighed, sometimes he wished that they had normal lives if only so that they didn't have to fear the authorities.

"Fine, but when he wakes up I think we should all go back to Pastor Jim's for a while," Dean said, stressing the fact that he wanted them to be together.

"We can't afford to take time off, besides Sam should heal pretty quickly," John said and Dean glowered at his father, furious at the man for disregarding the damage to his little brother but unwilling to fight with the man over it.

"And what about if Sammy still wants to go to Stanford?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"He won't," John said confidently, and Dean sighed but didn't answer. He felt to tired to argue with the clearly delusional man- he knew deep down that no matter what happened in the aftermath of the hunt that Sammy wouldn't give up on his dreams of college and that when John realised that there were going to be fireworks. This time, however, Dean swore that no matter what John said he was going to let Sam know that he was proud of him and ensure that they kept in touch. He'd had a taste of life without any contact with Sammy and he'd hated it, and as much as he didn't want Sammy to go to college he didn't want to lose him again even more.

"I'll go and get us some food," John said breaking into his thoughts and Dean nodded absent-mindedly, barely paying attention as his father vanished once more.

"Wakey wakey Sammy, " Dean said scooting closer to his brother. " C'mon kiddo, how am I meant to let you know how proud I am if you're asleep?"

Beneath his hands Sammy shifted suddenly, and hope welled up in Dean as he saw Sam's eyelids flickering open to reveal cloudy moss coloured eyes.

"Hey there sleephead, how are you feeling?" Dean asked with a broad smile, which vanished as Sam shrank away from him suddenly a look of fear and confusion mixing with pain as he did so. "Sammy? Sammy what is it? What's wrong?" He asked urgently, his concern growing as tears began to flow down Sam's face as the teenager cowered away from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sam mumbled so low that Dean had to lean forward to hear and he frowned in confusion as his brother continued with his litany of apologies.

"What are you sorry for? You haven't done anything wrong," Dean said trying to soothe his brother but instead Sam seemed to become even more worked up, his body starting to shake violently. "Sam calm down?" Dean ordered, reaching out to try and restrain his sibling and prevent him from causing himself further damage. However, as soon as he touched Sam the teenager went limp, his eyes rolling back and Dean realised with a start that his brother had fainted.

SN

The first thing that Sam became aware of as he clawed his way back to consciousness was that his entire body was a solid mass of pain, instantly he wished he could return to the cold peace of unconsciousness. However, somewhere in the distance he could here Dean speaking to him and he started to move towards the comforting voice. With great difficulty he forced his eyes open, blinking hazily up at his brother whose look of concern quickly changed into a smile.

"Hey there sleepyhead, how are you feeling?" Sam stared up at his brother in horror, as Dean's face twisted in front of his eyes into a mask of hatred. Although he could here Dean's words and the soothing tone, his attention was riveted to the mask of hatred and the insipid whisper that filled his ears.

Great the screw-up is awake, bet you're going to give me some crap about how you're feeling. You're such a weakling.

"Sammy? Sammy what is it? What's wrong?" Dean's anxious voice broke through the whisper for a brief second, but Sam shrank forward as the hate in his brother's face became mixed with anger.

Weakling. God now I have to coddle you because of Dad's order. Don't see why I should look after a screw-up like you, especially after all you've done- with your college crap and mom. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sam began to mumble even as he shrank away from his brother, terrified of the person whom he'd always trusted and looked up to. However, even through his fear, guilt began to well up as the whispered words hit him like physical blows. His dad had said he was a screw-up and had been furious about the college thing, but to hear the words coming from Dean- from behind that mask of hatred it more real. He really was a screw-up. He had tried to abandon his family. Had he killed their mom?

Sam felt sick as his whole world spiralled into a hurricane of guilt, and when Dean reached out towards him he felt of spike of terror…Dean was going to hurt him…punish him…maybe even kill him…and he deserved it. The guilt and fear overwhelmed his already weakened body and the last thing he saw as he fainted was Dean's eyes glinting with fury.

SNSN

Dean rubbed a hand over his face as he gently rearranged his brother on the bed and carefully tucked him in again. Sam's reaction had scared him…and hurt him- he never wanted to see his brother that scared of him ever again.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" He asked his silent brother, wondering if it was just a side effect of the head injuries or whether the spirit had done something to Sam. At that moment his father came in through the motel door accompanied by the usually welcome smell of burgers, however, Dean's appetite had long since deserted him and he was focused solely on his sibling now. John glanced at Sam and then at Dean, and halted as he saw the serious yet worried look on his eldest son's face and his gaze quickly flickered back to Sam.

"What's wrong?" He demanded.

"I'm not sure, Sammy woke up but he wasn't himself- he was terrified of me and when I tried to calm him down he fainted," Dean blurted out and John shot a semi-scornful look at his youngest.

"It was probably the head wounds, or maybe he was scared about what trouble he might be in?" John suggested, dismissing the problem and this time Dean exploded- reaching the end of his patience with the man.

"Damn it Dad, will you stop dismissing everything to do with Sammy. I don't think this has anything to do with that, I think that blasted spirit did something to him- and if that's the case then we need to do something about it now. You weren't here, you didn't seem him- he was terrified of me and he's never looked like that about me before," Dean yelled furiously, needing his father to understand that Sammy needed help.

"You really think it's something to do with the spirit?" John asked, startled by Dean's outburst and wondering whether Dean was right or if he was just overacting.

"Yes."

"Try and wake your brother and we'll see how he is," John ordered, deciding to play along at least for now so as not to upset his eldest even more. He moved forwards as Dean crouched beside Sam and began to try and wake him, unconsciously bracing himself for what was to come as the youngest of their family began to stir once more…

SNSN

Limp Sam next chapter folks.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for the late updates- I've been distracted with other plot bunnies

Sorry for the late updates- I've been distracted with other plot bunnies. Thanks for the reviews guys- enjoy!

SNSN

Sam whimpered as he began to rouse once more, unconsciously flinching away from Dean's insistent shaking.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean urged, glancing briefly at their father before refocusing on his little brother- praying that the fear from moments ago had merely been a fluke. He wasn't sure how he'd cope if Sammy reacted to him as he had only a little while ago; it was shocking to realise how much he needed the blind love and trust his sibling had him. Sure his Dad loved him, and he always made sure that Dean at least knew how proud he was of him…but there was always a restraint on any display of love or emotion and sometimes that hurt, but with Sam there was no restraint- he said what he felt, and felt how he said without hesitation.

"Sam wake up," Dean started at his father's barked order and he felt like decking the man, especially when his little brother's eyes flew open and filled with terror as he stared up at the older members of his family.

"Hey there kiddo," he said softly, reassuringly- determined to run interference between his vulnerable brother and their dad. However, his words appeared to fall on deaf ears as Sam drew in on himself, shrinking away from them.

"Sam?" John's voice was gentler this time as he began to believe that maybe Dean had been right- Sammy had never looked at him with this much fear no matter how badly they'd rowed, and for Sam to be scared of Dean just went against the natural order of their world. At his voice Sam whimpered again, his face paling as he stared up at his father with dull, hopeless eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Dean felt his heart constrict as Sam began to repeat the mantra he'd given voice to earlier.

"Sammy what are you sorry for?" John asked as gently as he could, his concern rising by the second- underlined with guilt- for doubting Dean and for the way he'd treated his youngest especially after Jim had torn him a new one for his behaviour.

"Everything," was the whispered reply, and as the oldest Winchesters watched Sam's eyes suddenly glowed blue for a second. At once Dean reached out for his brother, but he was shoved away as Sam suddenly sprang into motion shoving his brother aside his eyes wide. "No, no, no," he mumbled frantically as he fought his way free of the hands trying to grasp him, and before Dean or John could stop him he had stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door- the click of the lock echoing through the motel room.

SN 

"Damn it," John swore- he had failed his boy, that damned spirit had managed to do something to Sammy. "Dean get your brother out of there and stay with him, don't let him out of your sight," he ordered.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked- he wanted to point out how wrong his father had been, how much he'd screwed up but now was not the time. Sammy had to come first, there would be time for sharing out the blame once they'd brought Sammy back to himself.

"I'm going to find out how that son of a bitch is still playing with Sammy's head when I salted'n'burned his ass," John growled as he grabbed his duffel and headed for the door, mentally altering himself into his hunter state but at the door he halted and turned to gaze back at Dean- whom was struck by the level of emotion shining through his Dad's eyes. "I'm sorry Dean," was all John said and then he was gone and Dean turned to the bathroom door, now to get Sammy to come out.

SNSN

Sam shook violently as he crammed himself into the space between the washbasin and bath, trying to hide himself away from the world. He knew that he was just being as weak and useless as both Dean and John thought he was- he had heard the vicious whispers hidden beneath their facades of love and concern. He had never thought that words could hurt so badly- but those whispers of hate, disgust and anger had torn his heart to pieces, shredding his insides and causing his world to dissolve into grief and guilt stained with blood- his, theirs, mom's…every innocent they'd failed to save because of him.

"I didn't mean to, I didn't," he whispered desperately.

Ah but Sammy boy you did, you screwed up again and again. And Dad and Dean had to bail you out time and again, and it was innocents that paid the price. You screwed up. You're weak. Pitiful. Selfish. A disgrace to the name Winchester.

Sam stared around the bathroom through tearful eyes, trying to think of a way to make amends. Then his gaze fell on his father's razor blade…one of the old fashioned ones that could serve as a weapon. He shivered as he stared at it…it was too perfect…perhaps his Dad had left it there hoping that he'd use it. After all it was the perfect way to make amends for all the pain he'd caused his family. Almost without thinking he reached out and picked it up. With sudden resolve he moved it towards his wrist…he would make amends- there would be no screwing up this time…

SNSN

"Sammy?" Dean called as he knocked softly on the bathroom door, hoping that he'd be able to coax his sibling out without resorting to damaging the door. There was no answer, not even the sound of movement and he frowned. "Sammy, let me in I just want to see you're okay little brother. I don't want to hurt you Sammy. Please let me in," he called but the silence persisted. Hesitating he glared at the bathroom door- if this had been a normal day he'd have waited for Sam to escape whatever mood he was in and come out when he was ready. But the way Sam had been…so scared and so guilty looking- it made Dean's nerves tingle with sudden fear. "Sammy, I'm coming in little brother," he called as he moved back and delivered a resounding kick to the old door. The wood splintering around the lock rewarded him, and with a firm shove he forced the door open. However, as he stepped into the bathroom he felt his heart shudder to a halt in his chest….

Sammy, his Sammy, his little brother was huddled in the tiny space between the basin and the bath. Blood was running in a heavy flow from his brother's wrist, staining the white tiles around him a sickening pink and as Dean looked Sam raised their father's razor blade and moved it towards his other wrist. At once Dean shook himself into action, leaping forward and deftly disarming his sibling…hurling the offending weapon into the far corner of the room.

"Sammy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He demanded, his voice harsh with terror and concern as he stared into his brother's shockingly dull eyes.

"Making amends," Sam whispered, fresh tears welling up in his eyes as he realised that he'd failed to do what he needed to make amends…he couldn't even do that right.

"Shit Sammy," Dean said realising that until their Dad ended the spirit's influence there was no point trying to get through to Sammy. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed one of the hand towels hanging off the basin and wrapped it tightly around Sam's wrist- eliciting a sharp whimper from his sibling but no other response. "Come on little brother let's get you out of here," he said softly as he gently lifted his brother out of his cramped position, and immediately took his weight as Sam swayed dangerously his already pale face growing impossibly paler.

With some effort he managed to get Sam back to the bed, and gently helped him sit with the backboard supporting him. Taking a step back he examined his brother…the wound was still bleeding and needed treating, Sam was clearly heading into shock and there was still the heart-breaking blankness in the normally expressive eyes. In other words, his brother was a wreck and the entire situation was shit all round.

"That does it," he growled suddenly as he dug in his pocket and pulled out his cell, without taking his eyes of his brother he quickly dialled Pastor Jim's number. "Jim its Dean, we need your help…"

SNSNSN

Sorry for the shortness guys but I needed to set the stage for the next chapter.


End file.
